


The Inventor and The Wolf

by literaryoblivion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mentioned Vernon Boyd, Mystery, POV Stiles, Steampunk, Stiles-centric, Werewolves, Wolf Derek, mentioned Erica Reyes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:25:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8907172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: When Stiles stepped off the train onto the platform, he tried to be subtle about his awe in his surroundings. The station was bustling, women in fancy dresses, parasols on their arms, men in hats and suits, a few with canes swinging as they ran to their train car. Stiles had never seen so much activity in one place.Despite his excitement, he tried to blend in with the busy crowd. The last thing he needed was to stick out like a sore thumb and have someone pick-pocket him or to take advantage of him and his obvious naivety. He was here to find an investor willing to help him with his idea.~Stiles succeeds and ends up finding more than just an investor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Sterek secret santa gift for [trenonny](http://trenonny.tumblr.com). I hope you like it! I tried to give you some of the things you wanted and then it turned into something much longer than I planned. :/ Oops! Happy holidays! :)

When Stiles stepped off the train onto the platform, he tried to be subtle about his awe in his surroundings. The station was bustling, women in fancy dresses, parasols on their arms, men in hats and suits, a few with canes swinging as they ran to their train car. Stiles had never seen so much activity in one place.

Despite his excitement, he tried to blend in with the busy crowd. The last thing he needed was to stick out like a sore thumb and have someone pick-pocket him or to take advantage of him and his obvious naivety. He had used almost all of his savings to get to the city, and the rest of it and a few other valuables he thought might fetch a price were on him. He hoped it would last him enough to achieve his goal, but if not, he had other means to survive if necessary. He just didn’t want to resort to that. 

“Get out the way!” a gruff voice shouted behind him, startling Stiles from his observations on the platform. He quickly apologized and stepped to the side to allow the man and his trolley of bags to pass him.

Stiles hoped this first interaction with someone in the big city wasn’t indicative of the rest of his time there. If he was met with more rudeness and near hostility, there would be no way he’d get an investor, especially one in time for his needs.

He shook the thoughts off, telling himself that was not the attitude to have at the onset. He carried his lone bag and followed the moving crowd off the platform. He spotted an information desk in the distance and made his way there.

“Hello, sir. How can I help you?” the girl at the desk asked when Stiles approached. 

He set his bag down in front of him, leaned forward onto the desk, and gave her a smile. “Hi. I was wondering if I could get a map of the city, and if maybe you could recommend a few places for food and lodging?” 

The girl nodded in reply, taking a map off the top of the stack near her and opening it up to point out the places she was telling Stiles about. “This place, The Wolf’s Den, is kind of out of the way, but they usually have a vacancy and their food is pretty good.” 

Stiles didn’t have a reason not to believe her, but the name alone didn’t exactly scream quaint, comfortable bed and breakfast. The girl looked up at Stiles, and seeming to sense his thoughts, gave him a shy smile and continued, “I know someone that works there, and I know it sounds like a seedy place, but I promise it’s not. The owners are good people, a little different, but welcoming. They’ll take care of you.”

Stiles could tell she was sincere and genuine in her information, but he wondered why she was pushing this place so much to him. The first places she’d mentioned had been nearby hotels and restaurants that seemed normal if not expensive. Maybe she could tell he wasn’t well off and wanted to save him money? If that were the case, Stiles appreciated it, but it was still rather suspicious.

“Who is this friend of yours that works there? Shall I pass along any greetings from you to him or her?”

She giggled and blushed slightly. “His name is Scott. I’m sure you’ll run into him if you stay there. If you do, you can tell him Kira says hello.” 

Stiles nodded, collected his bag, and accepted the map Kira handed him. “Will do. Thank you again for your help.” 

“Of course! I hope you enjoy your time here in Beacon City.” 

Stiles gave her one last smile before setting off to the exit to finally see the grand city for himself.

As soon as he passed through the doors and got outside, the cacophony of sounds and multitude of smells from the crowds, passing motorized buggies, and various food vending stands overwhelmed him. The train station had been only a small taste of the busy-ness of the city and was similarly overwhelming, but outside of it, everything seemed grandiose and expansive. He tried not to get in the way of people or motorists as he made his way down to the line of people waiting on taxis. He thought about walking to “The Wolf’s Den,” but after seeing on the map just how far it was, he thought it would be better to catch a ride. 

He waited in line, moving up when the people at the front piled into a car, and tried to observe the behavior of those around him, hoping to pick up on how he might need to change his own to better fit in. Every now and then he’d hear a buzzing above him from a flying car, and he’d smile to himself as he thought of how his idea could revolutionize and improve on that flying motor. That is, if he could get someone willing to believe in him and his idea enough to fund it all. 

When it was finally his turn for a taxi, he climbed in and gave the driver a charming smile before relaying the name and address of the inn. The driver gave him a weary, narrowed gaze at the information, but shrugged and pulled into traffic. Stiles tried to make conversation, but after the lack of response at his third question, Stiles gave up and looked out the window.

Other motorized buggies passed by, along with a few horse-drawn carriages. As they drove further away from the city-center, the crowd thinned, and the shops got a little more run-down, less modern. The streets were dirtier; the signs dingier and unkempt. 

The more their surroundings became dark and dangerous-looking, the more Stiles feared that Kira had led him astray or had meant to trap him. Maybe she and her friend Scott did this to any unsuspecting, vulnerable tourist. He wondered if he should stop the driver from continuing and ask him to take him back to one of the hotels in town close to the station. Before he could make his request, though, the driver slowed and pulled up alongside a quaint cottage. 

It looked like it was two stories tall, and another smaller structure was set back behind it aways. The wooden sign posted in the front yard declared it as “The Wolf’s Den”. There was a small pathway that led from the front door to the street that looked clean, although overgrown with a few weeds in some patches to its sides. It appeared as if the inn was at the end of the road, as the paved street only continued a few more feet in front of the parked taxi, dead-ending to a dirt path that led into a grove of trees.

The cottage itself looked old, but cared for, needing what only looked to be a fresh coat of paint on a few shutters and some trimming of the hedges in the front. It seemed warm and inviting at first glance, which gave Stiles a little hope that maybe this wasn’t a setup to steal him for everything he was worth.

The driver cleared his throat, clearly wanting for Stiles to pay him and get out already so he could go back to town. Stiles apologized, and pulled out what little coins and money he had on him to give the driver what he was owed and a few extra for tip. The driver didn’t help Stiles carry his bag, but he at least waited until he pulled it out before driving away, leaving Stiles alone with his things standing in front of the inn.

There were no other shops or homes anywhere nearby, and Stiles wondered how he would get into town everyday to do business. If this taxi was like others, they were probably reluctant to drive all the way out to this place and to return. Maybe, he thought, he could strike up a deal with the owners. Surely they had some sort of transportation available for their own needs, and perhaps Stiles could join them on their trip into town or find some way to borrow it.

He could, if necessary, conjure up his own ride into town, but it took a great deal of effort and energy, and he’d like to avoid using it at all cost. Magic tended to attract all kinds of characters, both unsavory and not, and while Stiles didn’t want to advertise that he was a foreigner, he _definitely_ didn’t want to advertise that he had magic. He might get pick-pocketed for the first; he’d be murdered for the latter. 

Straightening up, Stiles picked up his back and held his head high as he walked up the path to the cottage. He wasn’t sure of the protocol here, as hotels would have a lobby with a desk that you could enter and approach. This appeared more like a home that happened to have rooms available, so he knocked on the door first, hoping it was the right move for this establishment. 

He could hear some shuffling behind the door, and the curtains in the side window moved slightly, before the door slowly creaked open, revealing only a sliver of space to see inside. Stiles couldn’t see if someone was on the other side or not, but there must have been for the door to open, right? He hesitated with his foot in the air, hand held out to push the door open. Should he enter or should he wait, or perhaps knock again?

Suddenly, the door flew open, causing Stiles to stumble back in surprise, almost falling off the small porch and back onto the walkway. He caught himself before he did, brushing a hand down the front of his coat in an attempt to play off the incident. He looked up, eyes wide, at the figure in the doorway. It looked like a normal man in everything but his face.

His eyes glowed gold and his brow was large and furrowed. He had long sideburns and when he opened his mouth, he had large sharp fangs, almost like a dog or a wolf. However, he was in normal clothes, the rest of his body appearing wholly human. Stiles suspected he knew what he was, but he was too frightened to voice any opinion. 

The man stepped out of the doorway, closer to Stiles, and Stiles instinctively took a step back, again nearing the edge of the stoop. The man’s eyes grew smaller, as if confused why Stiles would move away. Finally gaining his voice, Stiles held up his hands and said, “I mean no harm. I was told I could rent a room here, but if that’s not possible, I can leave.” 

The man remained puzzled, and he opened his mouth to say something, but it came out jumbled. A look of realization crossed the man’s face, and he quickly turned and rushed back into the inn, slamming the door behind him.

“Guess that means I need to leave,” Stiles mumbled to himself. He sighed and stepped off the stoop and walked down the path. He thought he had paid attention long enough in the taxi to figure out to make it back into town, but without a motor, it was going to be a long walk. He wasn’t looking forward to it. 

“Hey, wait!” a voice called out behind him when he reached the road. “I’m sorry! Come back!” 

Stiles turned to find the man who had greeted him earlier, only this time he looked completely human, face and all. He rushed down the path to Stiles, a timid smile on his face. Now that he wasn’t furry and fanged, Stiles thought he might be around his age, young for sure. He was tan-skinned, his jaw slightly crooked, and the dark brown hair on his head was shaggy and messy.

“I’m sorry about that,” the man said again. “I… uh… smelled magic and reacted. I hadn’t realized I hadn’t, um, gone back to normal yet when I answered.” The man frowned and looked down at his feet. 

“You smelled… magic?” Stiles asked, hesitant and incredibly nervous. If this half animal/half man could smell magic on him even though he hadn’t used any since that morning, it wasn’t good for his well-being. Anyone could track him that had the ability, and if they could track him, they could find him and take his powers by any means necessary. 

The man nodded. “You can use magic, right? I’ve only known one other person that has the same smell, but she…” His voice dropped off, and his face grew solemn. Whoever he had been talking about must have been special and must no longer be around. Stiles was sad for him even though he didn’t even know this man’s name. He’d lost someone special himself, his mother, so he had experience with the grief of loss.

“Pardon me if this seems rude, but… What… are you, exactly?” Stiles asked.

Quickly he snapped out of his somberness and smiled. “I’m a werewolf. Have you not… I thought if you were someone… like you, you would have known what I am?” 

“I’ve heard of the term. I’ve just never met one in real life. I’m not… from around here.” 

The man laughed. “I can tell. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you. You’ll be safe. I’m Scott.” The man held out his hand, and Stiles accepted it, shaking it.

“I’m Stiles. A friend of yours, Kira, recommended this place to me.”

At the mention of the name, Scott’s eyes grew wide and his smile grew rather goofy. So she was _that_ sort of friend to Scott.

“Kira’s great. I’m glad she sent you." 

“Is… is she a werewolf, too?”

Scott laughed. “No, she’s a kitsune. It’s a Japanese fox spirit? But she can sense things too, kind of like a werewolf.”

With Scott’s explanation, Kira’s insistence made more sense. “So she knew I had powers too? So this _was_ a set up?”

“Oh, no. I mean, yes, she knew, but she was trying to make sure you were going to be protected. That’s why she sent you to us. Not everyone likes people with certain abilities. She tries to keep an eye out for them to keep them safe. We have to stick together.”

“There are more of you? Werewolves?” Stiles knew his voice sounded surprised, but he’d never met another person with supernatural abilities other than his late mother in his small village. He’d read about them in his training, of course, but to meet not one but two different creatures in one day was shocking. 

“The owners,” Scott grinned, thumbing behind him at the cottage. “And a few of the staff. There’s some others that we know of, some that aren’t werewolves but something else, but they keep to themselves for the most part. Come on inside, we can talk more.” He took Stiles’s bag out of his hand and waved for him to follow him back to the cottage.

Stiles sighed, figuring he didn’t have anything to lose and Scott seemed nice and not out to get him. He followed him back up the path. He looked over his shoulder briefly, feeling like he was being watched and saw what he thought were red glowing eyes in the grove of trees at the end of the road. He blinked and looked again, and they were gone. It gave him an uneasy feeling, but Scott was waiting for him at the doorstep, so he shook the feeling off and picked up his pace to catch up.

~ 

By the time Stiles was checked into a room upstairs, he had met the entire household staff of werewolves, a resident who was a phoenix, and another who was something else but didn’t know what yet. Everyone was friendly and kind, and the owners, Erica and Boyd, were scary at first but as their conversation continued, Stiles decided he liked them. Plus, they were more than willing to help Stiles get into town, which he was grateful for.

Stiles didn’t feel quite comfortable yet to reveal to them his entire plans and reasons for his visit, but he at least felt safe with them knowing about his abilities, not that he could keep them hidden apparently. They at least didn’t ask him to use his powers or to prove himself. They seemed to accept him as he was and take him at his word and offer their assistance without promise of return payment, although he assured that he could pay for the room at least and would help around the household if they needed him.

That seemed to be enough for Erica and Boyd, and after showing Stiles his room and informing him the times they offered meals, they left Stiles alone.

The room was small, but sufficient. There was a bed just large enough for Stiles, a nightstand with a gas lamp for when it got dark, and a small dresser. Stiles hesitated to fully unpack, unsure how long he would actually be there, but he eventually decided it would be better to put away his clothes to keep them from being more wrinkled than they already were. His plans, sketches, and materials for his future investor he left in his bag, not wanting them to be out in the open for risk of someone stealing them or damaging them.

He knew it was slightly paranoid, but his and his father’s future and entire well-being rested on the success of these plans, and if something happened to jeopardize them, he’d never forgive himself.

It was too late to go back into the city, all the banks would be closed by the time he got there, so he resigned himself to settling in and getting to know the others in the cottage over dinner. He would have to start bright and early the next day. He would go to every place he could think of to find someone willing to take a chance on him and his idea, and he wouldn’t stop until he found that person.

~

“But, you don’t understand, this will work. I just need--” 

“I’m sorry… Stiles, was it? Look, you seem very smart and knowledgeable, but what you’re proposing is impossible.”

“No, it’s not. If you’d just let me--”

“And even if it were, it’s not something that Argent Investments is interested in taking on at this time.” 

Stiles sighed, knowing there was no use in arguing when the woman had already decided to reject his proposal.

“Thank you for your time.” Stiles stood from his seat and gave a nod before showing himself out the doors. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do now. Argent Investments was the last firm on his list, and every other bank, investment company, and wealthy businessman had all given him the same answer as the woman had.

He couldn’t go home with nothing. His father was counting on him to return with money to pay the doctors and now he’d have to return home with less than he had started with. His father would still love him, sure, but for how long? There was only so much Stiles could do with his magic to heal his father, but healing had never been his skill. His father needed expensive treatments and medicine, the kind they couldn’t afford unless Stiles could sell his idea, which he wasn’t confident he could do now. 

“Excuse me,” a female voice said, stopping Stiles with a hand on his arm before he pulled the doors open. The woman was tall, fair-skinned, with long brown hair in loose curls just past her shoulders.

“Yes?” Stiles asked, confused why she was stopping him. She looked as if she worked at the investment firm as well, as she was dressed in a similar outfit as the woman who had rejected him minutes before. However, she smiled, which was something the previous woman didn’t do the entire time she talked to Stiles. 

“I overheard your proposal, and I think you might have something grand.”

At first Stiles got excited, but then he frowned. “I was told only Miss Kate Argent was allowed to make investment decisions.”

“Oh, she is.” The girl continued before Stiles could express his confusion. “Argent Investments can’t help you, but… I think I might know someone who can?”

“Really?” Stiles said, voicing his skepticism. “I’ve been to every place and talked with every person in this city that could possibly help me, and I’ve been kicked out by every single one of them. This was the last place I could go.”

“Well, this person isn’t exactly in the city these days…”

“What--”

“Here.” The woman handed over a folded piece of paper. “Go to this address, talk to Miss Lydia Martin and only Lydia. She’ll help you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

The woman smiled. “Trust me.” 

“Trust you? I don’t even know you!” 

“Oh. I’m Allison,” she said, giving Stiles a slight curtsey. She looked over her shoulder and when she faced Stiles again, her face was grim. “You better go.” She gently pushed Stiles back towards the doors.

“Remember to ask for Lydia,” she said one more time with the door held open for Stiles. “Good luck!” she whispered before shooing Stiles outside and shutting the doors behind him.

Stiles stared down at the paper in his hands, wondering if this Lydia was his last and only hope and if she’d actually pull through for him. He didn’t want to take advice from strangers, but he had with Kira and things had worked out. Maybe this one would too.

It was far too late to visit the address now, as the sun was already setting, the sky growing dark. Besides, he had already asked far too much of Scott to take him around to all the places he had today. His stomach grumbled as he waited for Scott to finish getting the few things he needed while in town, one of which was some ingredients for their supper that night.

He was grateful when Scott finally pulled up in the cottage’s horse-drawn cart, bright smile on his face and a wave to Stiles. It had only been a day, but he and Scott had already become fast friends as they journeyed together and ran errands.

“Any luck?” Scott asked when Stiles stepped up into the cart and took the seat next to Scott. 

“No. I have one last place, but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

Scott nodded and snapped the reins to usher the horses into trotting forward. “You’ll find someone,” Scott said, voice hopeful. Stiles had revealed to Scott the reason for his visit in bits and pieces throughout the day, and it was a bit of a relief to have Scott know, not having to keep it a secret. He appreciated Scott’s positive attitude and encouragement; it helped buoy his own after every rejection and denial.

“I hope you’re right, Scotty. I really hope I do.”

~ 

Late that evening, after dinner and the other residents of the inn had retired to bed, Stiles snuck out into the forest at the end of the road, bringing a small satchel and the gas lamp from his bedroom. He needed to contact his father, and despite everyone knowing of his magical abilities, he still felt safer and more comfortable using them in a more secluded setting. 

The moon was high in the sky and it gave enough light that Stiles walked the path without making his torch any brighter. He didn’t feel as if he needed to go deep into the forest, but enough that he wasn’t seen by anyone who might be along the path. He found a small grove of trees with a pond in the middle of it a few feet off of the well-worn trail and decided it would be the perfect spot.

He set all the things he needed down on a small rock near the edge of the water, the lamp nearby so he could still see. He probably could have used his own magic without any supplies to call his dad, but the connection was never very reliable and was only audio-based. He wanted to see his dad with his own two eyes to make sure he was still doing okay, and that spell required blood and herbs (some of which he’d have to go in town to replace for Boyd and Erica since he had pilfered theirs).

Once he had everything prepared in a wooden bowl, he took out a knife and cloth from his satchel, using the knife to cut a small cut in his finger. He didn’t need much blood for this, only a few drops. When he was satisfied enough had dripped into the bowl, he wrapped his finger in the cloth and closed his eyes, hands hovering over the bowl. He concentrated on the spell and his dad, repeating the words of the spell in a low voice, feeling the familiar warmth of the magic in his chest working and responding to the words. 

Behind his eyelids he could see a glow much brighter than that of the lamp, which meant the spell was working. As soon as he could feel the small tug of the magic connecting him to his father, he opened his eyes, pleased with the glowing image of his dad in front of him just above the bowl. 

“Hiya, Dad.”

“Son,” his dad replied with a nod. It wasn’t a full picture, the only part of his dad that was visible was his face and part of his neck, but it was enough for Stiles. “Everything going okay?”

Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes, of course his dad would jump to the worst conclusion after receiving this type of call from him.

“It’s fine, Dad. I’ve made a few friends, even.”

“Friends, huh? Well that’s good. You better be careful though. Never know who you can and can’t trust, especially there in the city. They aren’t like us village-folk, you know?” 

“Yes, I know. I’m being safe. I promise. How are you? Did the doctor visit like he said he would?” 

His dad nodded. “Came yesterday. He says everything is the same, which is good, I guess. Haven’t gotten worse.” Stiles opened his mouth, but his dad cut him off, “Don’t worry. I’m not over-exerting myself. Been doing some reading, staying at the desk and doing paperwork. 

“Good. The last thing we need is for you to make things worse before I can get someone to fix it.”

“So you haven’t found what you’re looking for?” his dad asked. 

For a moment, Stiles thought to lie, pretend he had everything under control and would be on his way back to his dad in a day or two. But, he knew his dad would see through it, he was too good at his job and at being a father.

“Not exactly,” Stiles said. “I have one last name to check out tomorrow, but after that I’m not sure what to do.”

His dad let out a long sigh. “Maybe you should just come home. The doctor said I would be fine like this, could probably live another few years, maybe longer.”

Stiles winced at the statement. A few years wasn’t long enough for him. He had only gotten “a few years” with his mom, and it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t have that be the case for his dad. 

As if knowing what Stiles was thinking, his dad continued, “I’d much rather have my son by my side than trying to find a way to pay for a cure that might not work.” 

He wanted to argue with his dad, he wanted to yell that the cure would work, that all this time and effort he was expending to find an investor was worth it, but his dad was right. They didn’t know the cure would work, only knew that it was mostly successful with a small percentage of patients. And, part of him agreed with his dad, he’d much rather be with him as well, taking care of him and making sure to spend as much time with him as he could.

“Alright,” Stiles finally said. “I’m going to visit this last contact tomorrow. If it doesn’t work out, I will pack up my things and come home and try to figure out something else from there.” 

He stared at his dad’s face, the shimmery glow obscuring some of his features, but he could tell that his dad was torn--both relieved but also upset that he couldn’t do more to help his son achieve what he wanted.

“We can figure out something here, I’m sure,” his dad finally stated, giving a firm nod.

Stiles gave his dad a sad smile. “Alright, I better go. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”

“Good night, son.”

“Night, Dad.” 

And just as Stiles was about to wave the image away and disconnect them, his dad said, “Stiles?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m proud of you, you know. No matter what happens. I’m so proud of you, and I know your mother would be too.”

The tears Stiles had kept at bay through most of their conversation pricked at the corner of his eyes at his father’s words. “Thanks, Dad,” he said before waving his hand through the image of his dad, severing their magical connection.

He took the bowl and made to dump the contents out into the water but froze when a pair of red glowing eyes watched him from across the pond. He had seen those eyes before, when he had first arrived at the Inn, and he wondered what kind of creature could have eyes like that.

If it was some sort of predator, Stiles wasn’t sure if he should remain motionless or continue as if he hadn’t spotted them. How long had the creature been watching him anyway? Had he seen him use his magic to call his father? Maybe that’s what this creature was after? 

Choosing that the best course of action might be for him to get away, he quickly dumped the herbs out in the water and stashed the bowl and knife back in his satchel. He picked up the lamp and turned to go back the way he came, but instead of the path in front of him, it was the creature with the red glowing eyes.

Now that it was much closer and he could see better by the light of his lamp, the red eyes were owned by a large, dark black wolf. Stiles had only ever seen wolves in books, but instinctively he knew that this particular wolf was much larger than a normal wolf should be. The wolf also didn’t appear to be snarling or threatening Stiles in anyway.

In fact, he appeared more… curious than anything. Like Stiles (or perhaps his magic) was interesting and different. Not that the wolf couldn’t change his demeanor at a drop of a hat and decide to go for Stiles’s throat, but at the moment all the wolf did was stare at Stiles, standing a few feet away from him.

“Is this your… uh… territory? I was only occupying it temporarily. I was just leaving, actually.”

Stiles knew how insane it would appear to anyone else for him to be talking to an animal, but it was Stiles’s default defense mechanism. He could talk his way out of most situations, and if he couldn’t he’d use magic. Only, he had used a great deal of his energy to call his dad, and while he could still do something to defend himself should the wolf attack, he’d rather avoid depleting all of his energy before he could make it back to the relative safety of the inn. 

The wolf, of course, didn’t answer, but continued to stare at Stiles. After a few tense seconds of staring at each other, Stiles decided he had to try to at least make an exit; he’d just go incredibly slow so as not to appear as a threat. However, when he took one step to the side, the wolf followed the direction and then took a step closer until the wolf was in his space, snout at almost his chest.

Stiles held still as the wolf sniffed hesitantly at him. He hoped it wasn’t because the wolf was trying to determine if he’d be tasty for a midnight snack or not. There was something about the wolf’s demeanor, however, that made Stiles wonder if he was actually a wolf or something else made to look like one. He still hadn’t made a move to threaten Stiles, no show of teeth, growl, or even a snort, as he continued to sniff and investigate Stiles. The behavior cemented more the thought that this was some kind of shapeshifter.

“You’re not a wolf, are you?” Stiles voiced out loud, making the wolf stop his ministrations and look up at Stiles, a slight tilt in his head. “Can you understand me?”

The wolf took a step back and sat on the ground, as if to prove to Stiles that his suspicions were correct. It didn’t take long to make the connection between shapeshifter and wolf to voice his thoughts. 

“Are you a werewolf? Do I know you? Are you--” He stopped as the wolf approached and moved around him. He felt the wolf nudge his back with his nose.

“What are--” Stiles started only to have the wolf nudge him again, harder than the first. “Alright, I’m going!” Stiles huffed, figuring the wolf was trying to push him back out of the trees in some kind of attempt to either protect him or get him out of his territory. Whichever it was, Stiles was more than happy to leave.

The wolf continued to follow him until he was back onto the path towards the inn. Stiles looked back after a few paces, and the wolf sat, eyes on Stiles, watching him as he continued down the path. When Stiles neared the edge of the forest, he glanced back one more time to see the wolf turn and disappear back into the trees. He wasn’t dumb enough to try to follow; it had pushed him out for a reason, but he was curious nonetheless.

He’d have to ask Scott in the morning. Surely the wolf, if it was indeed a werewolf like Stiles thought, would be known by the other werewolves if not by name at least by sight. Or maybe the wolf had been one of them?

He snuck back into the inn and up to his room, the gas in his lamp nearly empty. No one had seemed to notice his absence, for which he was grateful. After finally settling into bed, he drifted off to sleep, images of black wolves with red eyes creeping into his dreams.

~ 

The next morning, Stiles had to rush, having overslept more than he had planned, to catch Scott before he left to run errands. Scott had reassured him he wouldn’t have left without Stiles, but Stiles still felt bad for causing Scott any delay. Scott only shrugged, reiterated it wasn’t a big deal, and ushered the horses forward toward the address Stiles had been given by the woman at Argent Investments.

“And she said to talk to Lydia Martin?” Scott asked again. 

“Yes. Why, does this Lydia person not live there?” Stiles asked.

“No, Ms. Martin does live there, but… it’s not her house.”

“Meaning, it’s not her money to invest?” Stiles knew this promise from a stranger was too good to be true.

“Uh, I don’t… I’m not sure how it all works. The Hales used to live there, I know that. But, something… happened. No one’s seen any of the Hales, or what’s left of them ever since,” Scott said, voice sad and melancholy.

“What happened?”

Scott shook his head. “I’ve only heard rumors. I didn’t live here then, and sometimes rumors are only half-truths. All I know is that there was a fire, but the cause of the fire is unknown.”

“Sounds mysterious and foreboding.”

With a nod, Scott continued, “Some of them survived, and the house has since been repaired, but no one has seen a Hale _in person_ since the fire.”

The way Scott emphasized “in person” made Stiles question what he might be implying. He opened his mouth to question, but they trotted over a ridge, and the sight of the house before him was breathtaking enough to stop him.

The house seemed like it had leapt off the pages of an old gothic novel, spiraling parapets and columns, large dark windows, and a tall iron fence surrounding it. There were towering trees and bushes along the fence line, and as they finally approached the gate, which opened for them automatically by some mechanism, the drive up to the house was lined with the same tall bushes. Stiles couldn’t detect any fire damage from the outside, so Scott must have been right about someone fixing up the house, but surely it had to have been whoever had survived the fire, right?

As Scott slowed the horse into a stop in front of the steps up to a large wooden door with brass fixtures, he asked Stiles, “Would you like me to go in with you? I could pretend to be your assistant?” His voice sounded both nervous and protective, like he was worried for Stiles’s safety. He hadn’t told Stiles what the rumors were that had caused the fire, but maybe they were the cause of Scott’s hesitance. Otherwise, it was just a large house with someone who could possibly have the funds to help Stiles with his endeavor.

Stiles smiled and leapt off the side of the cart, grabbing his bag and his roll of blueprints from the back after. “Thanks, buddy, but I’ll be alright. If this goes like all the others yesterday, I’ll probably be back out here in no time!” He tried to come off as joking, but he knew his laugh sounded more sad than he meant it.

“Good luck!” Scott said, giving him a hopeful grin.

He gave Scott a salute, then turned and squared his shoulders as he trudged up to the house. As he walked, he secretly hoped that no one was home so he could at least have one more day to try again, to give himself a little hope. But, no, it was better to get this over with than prolong it. His dad needed him, and if he couldn’t help by doing this, then he’d go home and figure out some other way.

The fact that no one might be home looked more and more like a possibility as Stiles could see no light from the windows, and the curtains all seemed to be drawn closed over them. Before he knocked, he turned back to look at Scott who was no longer paying him attention, but instead writing on some paper. Stiles mused that it was probably a love note to Kira and guessed they would be stopping by the train station later that day so he could drop it off.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of red, and he spun around hoping to catch what it was. There was nothing there but the door that he still hadn’t knocked on yet, but he thought he saw the curtains behind one of the windows to the side of the door move. The red reminded him of the wolf he saw last night, and he made a mental note to ask Scott about Boyd on the way back. 

Finally, he lifted one of the large brass rings on the door and knocked three times and waited. He didn’t want to seem too impatient by leaning in and pressing his ear to the door to hear any possible movement on the other side, but luckily, he didn’t have to wait for long.

The door opened slowly, and on the other side was a gentleman in a well-pressed suit, tailored, who looked to be not much older than Stiles. His brown hair was slicked back, and he had the most striking green eyes. 

“How may I help you, sir?” the man asked, and Stiles mentally checked himself to make sure he wasn’t doing something unbecoming. If this was his possible investor, he needed to look professional. 

“Yes, I was hoping to find a Ms. Lydia Martin here? I’d like to discuss a possible business matter with her.” 

The man frowned slightly. “I’m sorry, but Ms. Martin is not taking any business inquiries at this time.”

Great, Stiles thought, more of the same, but never let it be said that Stiles gave up easily and wasn’t persistent. “I see. Well, I still would like to discuss that with her. I think it would be well worth her time, I assure you, to at least hear me out.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she will not see you. I’m sorry you came all this way. Good luck in your endeavors.” The man was already shutting the door on Stiles, refusing to hear any more, but Stiles was desperate and this was his last chance.

“I was given her name by a Ms. Allison Argent. Surely, Ms. Martin would at least give me a meeting for her.”

The man paused at the name, slowly widening it again to face Stiles. “Did you say Allison Argent?” he asked.

Stiles nodded quickly. “Yes, at Argent Investments. She assured me that Ms. Martin would give me some time to hear my proposal.”

The man pursed his lips and beckoned Stiles in with a hand, stepping aside so Stiles could cross the threshold. “Please wait here,” he said. He turned and left down a long hallway and disappeared around the corner.

Inside, the house was much less dreary than the outside made it seem. It was dark in the front of the house, what little daylight could creep through the closed curtains of the front windows being the only light, but there were several more windows on the opposite wall with curtains tied back. There were several gas lamps along the walls of the hallway the man and disappeared into, and there was a staircase to the right that had more gas lamps lining it. Nothing was dusty that Stiles could see from his spot in the foyer, and what little furniture he could see appeared comfortable if not ornate.

Part of Stiles wanted to venture further, to do a little more snooping of the house to satisfy his own curiosity, but he didn’t want to get caught anywhere but where the man had left him, so he stayed put.

After a few more moments of glancing around the house, the gentleman appeared again and beckoned Stiles with a “Come with me, please,” to follow him back down the hallway.

Seeing more of the house as they walked didn’t reveal anything new to Stiles, it was more of the same lamps, all of the windows that faced the front of the house were closed, but the back ones were open. There were no pictures whatsoever on the walls, nor personalized paintings beyond a few landscapes he could see on some of the distant walls of rooms they passed. Most of the doors along the hallway were closed, however.

At the end of the hallway, the gentleman stopped and turned to face Stiles. Beside them was a door, partially opened, and the man pushed it open a little further, holding his hand up.

“After you,” he said, allowing Stiles to step through first before following after him. “Ms. Martin will be in, in a moment. You may have a seat,” he said, gesturing to one of the plushly cushioned chairs in front of the desk. “Can I get you any tea? Coffee?” he asked once Stiles had sat down.

“No. I’m fine, thank you,” Stiles said, hiding his surprise at how the gentleman’s demeanor had changed. He had been ready to kick Stiles out, now he was offering beverages. Allison must hold some great sway over Lydia to enact such a change in behavior towards Stiles.

The man nodded and left Stiles alone in the room. This room, unlike the others that he’d caught glimpses of, was a little more… cozy. The rug on the floor was a rich floral print, and behind the desk were bookshelves lined with brightly colored tomes, some of which Stiles was sure weren’t even in English. There were still no personalized pictures or photos, and the items on the desk were rather standard: paper, ink well, quill, a few envelopes.

He turned at the creak of the door, and a thin woman with long red hair wearing a form-fitting business suit, stepped through. Quickly, Stiles stood at the sight of her so as to be polite, assuming this must be the Lydia Martin that Allison had sent him to. The woman was beautiful, pale skin, full red lips, makeup flattering. If Stiles felt that way towards women, he most certainly would have fallen madly in love with her that instant. 

“Ms. Martin, I presume?” he asked, holding his hand out for her.

She nodded and allowed him to take her hand, and although Stiles had the brief thought that he should do the gentlemanly thing and raise it up to his lips, he thought better of that since this was to be a business meeting, and shook it instead. The action seemed to surprise Lydia just slightly, but she quickly schooled her face into a smile and took a seat behind the desk.

“So, Parrish tells me you have a business proposal, Mr….?” Lydia started, trailing off to let Stiles fill in.

“Mr. Stilinski. Stiles Stilinski.” Lydia’s eyebrows lift at the full name, but Stiles continues, “I spoke with an Allison Argent yesterday at Argent Investments, and she gave me your name and address and said you would be willing to hear my idea and possibly invest in--” 

Lydia held her hand up to stop him mid-sentence. “First, Mr. Stilinski, I don’t need to know how you got here, for the important thing is that you are here and you have my attention. Second, I must make it clear that I am not the investor. I merely handle the finances and expenses of my employer, Mr. Derek Hale. If I think your proposal is worthy of _his_ time and money, only then will you be able to meet with him to secure an investment and any future monies. Is that clear?”

Stiles swallowed at the firmness in her voice. He knew this was too good to be true, that Allison hadn’t told him the whole story. Either way, this was his only chance, and he was going to do everything he could to convince Lydia that his idea was invaluable to Derek Hale and that it would receive his investment back tenfold.

“I understand, ma’am,” Stiles finally voiced.

Pleased, Lydia nodded. “Now that we have that taken care of. What is this idea you have?”

~

The meeting took far longer than he thought, seeing as he finally got to present everything and lay out his plans, which he’d never been able to with the previous people he talked with. Lydia seemed very attentive, and although she tried her best to keep her face neutral during Stiles’s explanations, he could tell there was a slight spark and gleam in her eye that thought she might actually give him a chance.

By the end of their meeting, Stiles thanked her, and Lydia assured him that she would think everything over and let him know by letter to the inn that evening whether he could come back to meet with Mr. Hale or not. She walked him to the front door herself, Parrish being nowhere to be found and waved him out before shutting the door behind him.

The sun was already high in the sky, which meant he had been inside with Lydia for much longer than he thought. Scott was tucked into the back of the cart, his hat over his face, taking a nap. Stiles smiled and moved to step up into the cart to wake him, but stopped when he saw the same glowing red eyes that had belonged to the wolf last night just over the row of hedges towards the side of the house. He stepped forward as if to approach, but the wolf ran off out of sight.

Instead of feeling disturbed or uncomfortable, seeing the wolf made him feel… secure, and curious. He shook his head at the wolf’s disappearing act and went back to Scott, nudging him in the shoulder to wake him. 

He accompanied Scott into town to run his errands, having nothing else to do but wait for word from Lydia. He had been right about the love letter, and Scott had blushed furiously at the teasing Stiles bestowed on him when Scott stopped at the train station to drop it off at the information desk.

It was when they were finally making their way back to The Wolf’s Den that Stiles brought up the wolf to Scott.

“Do both Erica and Boyd have gold eyes like you do when they transform?” Stiles asked, figuring it might be best to start with that to rule out them as being the wolf he’s been seeing everywhere. 

“Yeah. Why?” Scott asked, head turned towards Stiles, face curious.

Stiles shrugged and didn’t answer the question just yet, asking another instead. “Do any of you turn into a full wolf, or do you just get the furry face and claws?” He held his hands up in a claw shape, making Scott giggle.

“Yeah. Only alphas can turn into the full wolf. Erica, Boyd, and I are all betas.”

“Do alphas have red eyes too?”

“Yeah.” Suddenly, Scott narrowed his eyes, voice growing suspicious. “Why do you ask, Stiles?”

“Curious.”

Scott continued to stare at him. Stiles thought he should say something about Scott keeping his eyes on the road, but there was no one else around, and the horses knew the way home without having to be lead there. They were close to the inn anyway. 

“Just curious?” Scott asked, leadingly. Stiles hoped his face portrayed innocence, but it must not have because Scott’s eyes widened. “Have you seen one? A wolf with red eyes?” 

“I… yes, okay. I have. It’s been everywhere, in the woods when I first arrived, in the forest last night we had… an encounter--”

“What were you doing in the forest at night?!” Scott squawked, but Stiles ignored him. 

“--And then today he was at the Hale house in the bushes. And at first I thought it was just a wolf, but normal wolves don’t have red glowing eyes, and then I thought maybe last night that it was Boyd just looking out for me, but you just said it couldn’t have been him, but some unknown Alpha instead. And, like, who else could it be? I thought you guys were the only werewolves around?” 

Scott didn’t say anything while Stiles rambled, instead pulling the horses around the back of the inn and pulling up alongside their stables. He sat there a moment, looking down at the reins in his hands while Stiles stared, waiting for an answer.

“There’s… there’s one other werewolf we didn’t tell you about, mainly because we haven’t seen him for a while, we didn’t know what happened to him. But, I do know he’s an alpha, and can shift into a wolf and has red glowing eyes like you’ve described.”

“Who? Who is it?”

On a breath, Scott said, “Derek Hale.” 

~

Word came that night while they were all eating supper, that Stiles was to return to the Hale estate to meet with Mr. Derek Hale the next morning. Scott had promised to keep Stiles’s wolf sightings to himself rather than tell Erica and Boyd, although he seemed rather reluctant to keep such a large secret. As Scott later explained to Stiles, beta wolves form a pack with an alpha as their leader, but since Derek’s disappearance, Erica and Boyd and Scott had all been getting by without him, but it had been tough.

They needed an alpha, Derek, to remain stable and under control. Without his presence, it was difficult, if nearly impossible to maintain control for long periods of time. It was why they had gotten the inn and secluded themselves away from the city, why they only went into the city for necessities, and why they usually sent Scott. Scott hadn’t originally been part of their pack, had been adopted in later after Derek had disappeared, so he was used to being on his own, and considered himself more as an omega--a wolf without a pack--than a beta with Erica and Boyd. 

But if Erica and Boyd had heard about Derek being alive and well and close by, they might do something drastic to get to him. 

Stiles liked them both, and he wanted to help them get their alpha back now that he knew the wolf he had been seeing was the Derek Hale that he was to meet tomorrow. But, maybe it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances of securing an investment with Derek. So he kept the letter to himself and asked Scott if he could take one of the horses back to the Hale house the next day without accompaniment.

Scott seemed reluctant to let Stiles go out alone, but he finally did, again promising that he would make no mention to Erica or Boyd of where Stiles was going or who he was to meet. Later that night when everyone else had gone to sleep, Stiles thought to go back into the woods, both to call his father but to also see if he could maybe see the wolf again. Now that he knew who it was, part of him wondered if he’d see the wolf differently, if he’d appear more human than wolf to Stiles.

He decided against venturing out, though. He was tired, and he was going to meet with the man tomorrow morning. He settled for doing an audio-only connection with his father, requiring less magic and energy on his part to perform than the one the previous night. His father wished him luck, told him he was proud again, and said good night, satisfying Stiles and imbuing him with hope that maybe Derek would be the one to help him see things through and help him cure his father.

It was a big thing to hope and put on one man, but if Derek Hale really was the alpha werewolf that Scott said, he could probably handle it.

~ 

In the morning, Stiles found that Scott had already saddled up one of the horses with a note wishing Stiles luck. With a smile, Stiles mounted the horse and trotted down the path that Scott had taken them the day before. It was faster this way as Stiles was alone with no cart trailing behind him, and he arrived at the front door of the Hale house sooner than he planned.

He shrugged, decided it was always better to be early than late for business meetings, and he took his time tying up the horse to one of the posts at the edge of the front steps. With confidence this time, he strode up the steps and knocked on the door, greeted again by the same gentleman as yesterday, Parrish.

“Mr. Stilinski,” he said with a tilt of his head, opening the door further to allow Stiles to step in. “If you’ll follow me,” he continued as he shut the door behind Stiles. He led him down the same hallway as yesterday, only this time, he stopped halfway and turned, gesturing for Stiles to enter the door to their left. Parrish did not follow him into the room this time, instead waiting until Stiles had fully entered before shutting the door behind him.

This room was similar to the one he had met Lydia in, a desk with bookshelves behind it, a few chairs opposite, but it was much bigger. Stiles moved to take a seat at the desk like he had yesterday, only he was startled by a man emerging from the shadows to his right. 

He gasped and bit back the expletive that wanted to emerge at being surprised, but the man didn’t look remotely apologetic about Stiles’s reaction. Schooling his features, Stiles straightened the front of his coat, running his hands down it, before holding his hand out. 

“I’m Stiles Stilinski. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.” He gave the man he assumed was Mr. Derek Hale a warm smile, which faltered when the man made no move to step forward and accept Stiles’s handshake.

He was about to let his hand fall when the man finally stepped closer, taking Stiles’s hand in his and giving it a firm shake. His hand was warm and soft, and now that he was fully out of the darkened corner of the room, Stiles could see that he was incredibly handsome. He had thought Parrish’s eyes were striking before, but Derek’s were mesmerizing. They were a strange mix of green and gold and blue, and Stiles could see himself getting distracted by trying to determine just what color they were.

He had a firm jawline and sharp cheekbones, visible beneath the dark stubble on his face. His dark brown hair was long enough to run one’s fingers through, and Stiles had to stop himself from picturing his own fingers doing just that. His suit was fit and tailored, and he appeared ready to go to a formal gathering rather than a simple business meeting. It made Stiles feel as if he had perhaps underdressed for the occasion.

“Derek Hale,” the man intoned after releasing Stiles’s hand. His voice was soft and not nearly as deep as Stiles was expecting. “Please,” Derek said, holding his hand out towards the chairs at the desk as he himself crossed the room to sit on the opposite side.

For as mysterious and dark as he had appeared just moments before, now he seemed relaxed and almost friendly, smiling as Stiles sat across from him. Perhaps it was more for Stiles’s benefit than anything else. If he was truly the werewolf he’d seen in the woods, he’d be able to pick up on the nervousness that Stiles was sure he was exuding.

“Lydia tells me you have something I must hear? Some sort of idea for a flying machine?” Derek asked.

“Oh, right, yes,” Stiles said, shaking his head to get his thoughts back to the task at hand rather than wondering about decidedly inappropriate things about his hopefully future business partner. “It’s more than just a flying machine itself though,” he said, pulling out the plans and some paperwork from his bag. “It’s a new fuel source that will allow for longer, sustainable travel. It would allow people to travel greater distances than just to the other side of the city for lack of fuel.” 

Derek nodded and waved for Stiles to continue, clearing his desk to allow Stiles to set down his papers and roll out the blueprints.

Stiles forgot his nervousness as he explained to Derek how his idea worked and how much he would need, money and materials-wise, to be able to construct it. He was passionate about his subject, and throughout their meeting Derek seemed engaged, listening to Stiles’s points and asking questions. He expressed a few concerns that Stiles hadn’t even considered, and suddenly he was glad that he had been referred to Derek.

He was hopeful that Derek was going to invest in him and his idea, and he tried to squash the giddy excitement he felt at the prospect of not only achieving his dream and in turn helping his dad, but also of the idea of working alongside Derek. He was quiet, sure, only voicing things out loud when it was pertinent, but he was personable and friendly with Stiles. Stiles couldn’t deny that he felt some sort of connection to Derek, something similar he had felt with the wolf in the woods, why he didn’t immediately run away when he spotted him but instead waited and let the wolf come to him. Of course, the heat he felt when Derek leaned over his shoulder to look at the plans was something that was affecting him as well for an entirely different reason.

It wasn’t until Parrish knocked lightly on the door, asking if Stiles would be staying for lunch and should he prepare something for them to bring to the office, that he realized how absorbed into the plans he and Derek had gotten, not to mention how close they were standing to each other. 

“You’re welcome to stay for lunch, if you’d like. Perhaps we should take a break from this and take lunch in the dining room?” Derek asked, taking a few subtle steps back from Stiles while Parrish waited in the doorway for their answer. 

“I, yes, that would be great, actually,” Stiles answered.

Derek smiled and looked at Parrish, who left with a nod just as quickly as he’d appeared.

“So,” Stiles asked as they moved to follow Parrish out of the office and towards the dining room. “Does this mean you’re going to accept my proposal and invest in my idea?”

Derek let out a small chuckle and the corner of his lips quirked up. “I think you already know the answer to that question,” he said. He let Stiles step in front of him as he led him into the dining room, his hand resting at the small of Stiles’s back.

“It never hurts to be sure,” Stiles said, ignoring the heat from Derek’s hand as he guided Stiles toward a seat at the table. He pulled out the chair for Stiles, and waited to push it in for him as well, and Stiles was grateful Derek was too busy going to his own seat to his right to notice the slight blush on Stiles’s cheeks.

“I’ll be sure to put it in writing for you when we’re through with lunch,” Derek teased, shaking out the cloth napkin that had been placed on the plate in front of him before setting it in his lap. Stiles bit back his grin as he mirrored Derek’s action with his own napkin.

The food came quickly after that, and while conversation did tend to involve their future business arrangements, they did talk about other things, Derek asking Stiles about his home, and his father, apologizing when he heard of Stiles’s father’s illness and assuring Stiles he would do all he could to help, even if it was outside of their business contract.

They were on dessert when Stiles finally got up the courage to ask Derek the question he’d been longing to ask ever since Scott had told him what and who Derek Hale really was.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Stiles asked.

At the words, Stiles could see Derek’s shoulders tense and his body stiffen slightly. “I suppose,” Derek replied, “though I hold the right not to answer if I so choose.”

“Of course,” Stiles was quick to reassure.

“What’s the question?”

Stiles bit his lip and set his napkin down on the table, turning slightly to face Derek better. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

The tension eased a little from Derek’s shoulders, and Stiles wondered if maybe he had been preparing himself for Stiles to ask what happened to his family and his house all those years ago. Stiles might ask that some day, but it was too early in their acquaintanceship to ask such a thing.

“Why do you say that?” Derek asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

“A feeling.” Then Stiles added, “And someone told me something that makes me think so.”

“Oh? And where did we meet then?” 

“In the woods… of course you and I looked very different then than we do now.”

Derek smiled. “I don’t know, you haven’t changed that much. Different clothes maybe, but that’s all.”

“So you are admitting to me that you are the wolf I’ve been seeing?” 

“Will you admit that most of your idea hinges on magical properties that you possess?”

“You first,” Stiles teased, heartbeat picking up slightly at what he was sure was flirting.

Derek sighed. “Yes. I am the wolf.”

Pleased, Stiles grinned. “Then yes, my plans do need my magic to succeed. But only at the start. It can sustain itself without my help after that.”

Derek rolled his eyes, and Stiles was sure it was fondly. Stiles spoke up again, “Am I right to believe that the full wolf and red eyes mean you’re an alpha?”

The tension returned to Derek’s shoulders, and Stiles was mad at himself for causing it with his question. “I am,” he replied, voice strained.

Stiles nodded, not wanting Derek to shut him out with more of this line of questioning. He could wait as long as Derek needed to be comfortable, and Stiles would be ready to introduce him to a few people that would be happy to see him again, to be his pack again.

Instead he asked, “So, why have you been following me, Mr. Hale? I’ve seen you more than just that one night in the woods.” Stiles’s tone was teasing and flirty, and he hoped that Derek took it as such and not as an accusation. 

Derek’s cheeks flushed red, and he cleared his throat. “I, um, find you… intriguing,” he said, the word imbued with meaning.

Stiles could feel his own face heat, sure his blush was more obvious than Derek’s. “Well, I find you intriguing as well, Mr. Hale.”

“Please, call me Derek.”

“Derek,” Stiles repeated with a smile, liking the way it sounded on his tongue.

~ 

**6 Months Later**

“What if they hate me?” Derek asked, fixing the cravat around his neck in the mirror.

Stiles came up behind him and slapped Derek’s hands away, fixing the cravat for him with a roll of his eyes.

“They aren’t going to hate you. I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this. They all know you’re here and around and better. This is just a formality anyway, just to make sure you guys are ready to be a pack again,” Stiles said.

Derek nodded reluctantly, admitting Stiles was right. They had all already met together unofficially, Erica, Boyd, and Scott getting used to the idea of having an alpha again, having one be present in their lives instead of lingering on the edges of their bonds. The initial meeting had been tense and had resulted in shifting and howls, and luckily Stiles had magically separated them before anything could get more violent than that.

Now, though, they were all used to each other and this was a dinner to make everything official, to have Erica, Boyd, and Scott submit to Derek as their alpha, although he had reassured him that they could do as they pleased and he was more there as support and a guide if they needed him rather than as a commanding leader demanding loyalty. 

“Hey, Stiles,” his dad called from down the hall. “I still can’t get this tie right. This stuff is too fancy for me.”

Stiles huffed out a sigh and rolled his eyes. Derek snorted and turned to face Stiles, pulling him in closer by his waist, and giving him a kiss.

“You better go help your dad,” Derek said, giving Stiles one more peck before pushing him gently away.

“I’ll be right there,” Stiles shouted out, loud enough for his dad to hear. “You can hear him grumbling, can’t you?” Stiles asked when he saw Derek’s lips quirk.

“Yeah, you better go before he decides he’s not coming at all.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and stepped away from Derek’s space. “I like that jacket. You should wear it to our meeting with the supplier next week,” Stiles added with a wink, ignoring Derek’s huff at the remark since he knew Derek would wear it simply because Stiles asked. Derek was too gone on him to refuse; of course, Stiles was likewise, so it was a pretty even balance.

“Ok, old man,” Stiles remarked, to which his dad protested, making Stiles laugh. “Let me work my magic on these ‘too-fancy’ clothes of yours.”

His dad’s eyes widened. “That’s why I can’t tie it? I need magic?! I knew these things were too complicated…” His dad’s complaints trailed off under his breath, but Stiles couldn’t hear them because he was laughing too hard.

He was so inordinately happy. He had his dad, healthy and on the mend; he had Derek, as both a business partner and a boyfriend; he was working on his dream idea, and soon he was going to have a pack, a found family to call his own. No amount of his dad’s grumbling could affect him now. He was too happy and knew he would be for many years to come.

**Author's Note:**

> I very well might develop this story further as I would want to spend more time developing Derek and Stiles's relationship but couldn't given the time constraints (and the fact that I was already WAY over the word limit). I'm not sure it will actually happen, but if it does, I'll update this story. *fingers crossed it happens!*


End file.
